


Shooting Stars

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coulson freakout, F/M, Fighting, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, skoulsonfest2k14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For August 26th Skoulsonfest2k14 - hurt/comfort.  Skye patches Coulson up and angst fighting ensues (not the same barn as Rosaleedonovan's but it might be nearby).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shooting Stars

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Don’t say _anything_. Not a single thing.”

“Look,” she said, pulling back the elastic.

“No. Words.”

“Sir, you can’t possibly be that embarrassed,” she said. “How many agents have you patched up in...sensitive places...during your extensive SHIELD career?”

“Too many,” he replied stoically, his eyes on the ceiling.

“Hold on, I’m just getting the bandage,” she said, her finger hooked into the elastic at his hip.

“I can do this myself,” he growled. “Just let me do this myself.”

“You burned your fingers, so, no, you can’t.”

He sighed above her as he heard her peel the backing of the bandage away.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But, I didn't tell you to put your fingers _in_ the vat. That was clearly marked corrosive.”

“I ran out of time and options. It was better than an explosion.”

“Absolutely. They’ll heal, right? I mean, no loss of feeling or scarring?”

She sounded very worried. He felt the elastic dig deeper into his hip as she made room for the bandage.

Just a moment of hesitation.

“Hm.”

“What?!” His eyes looked down as her hand lay flat against his hipbone, pressing the bandage onto the wound.

His breathing caught as she slowly pulled it out and away.

“All done.”

Coulson released the air caught in his lungs and leaned with his palms touching the top of the table, carefully avoiding using his fingers.

“So stupid, forgot,” she said giddy, bending down to his ankles.

“Just get it over with,” he asked, venting his frustrations.

She gently yanked the dress trousers up and over his hips, zipped them and began buttoning then fixing his belt.

“I know you hate feeling helpless,” she started.

“Yes, Skye, yes, _that’s my problem_ ,” he said agitated. “Feeling helpless.”

“It's not anything I haven’t seen before,” she said finally, looking at him with a smirk.

“That’s not entirely true, now is it?”

“Didn’t see much. I was too busy patching you up.”

“You’re lying,” he said, wincing when he tried to point a finger at her.

“Try to minimize your pointy gestures until you're healed, sir.”

She started putting the medkit back into her pack.

“You made that noise,” he said.

“What noise?” she said, trying not to laugh at him.

“Stop trying to make this funny. You made some little ‘huh’ noise. And you did it on purpose. You did it to make me feel even more uncomfortable, and I want to know why!”

Skye was just leaning back against the table, watching him rant with his bandaged fingers and unbuttoned shirt.

“You know we almost died, in an explosion, about 30 minutes ago, right?” she said, shaking her head at him.

“Yes, I was kind of there,” he said holding up his fingers in front of her.

“So, maybe...lighten up a bit?”

“ _I’m_ freaking out. Okay.”

“A little.”

He caught himself, stopped. Looked down at the floor.

“It’s just...it’s getting harder,” he said, putting the heel of his hand against his forehead.

“What is?”

“Boundaries,” he said, his hand coming down as he turned to scowl at her.

“I understand why you tell yourself that,” she replied, zipping up her pack and sliding it over her shoulders. “Just don’t expect me to agree with it.”

“Right,” he said, shaking his head. He crossed to the door of the barn and peeked out at the sunset, scanned the surrounding perimeter.

“We are _great partners_ ,” she said, flustered that he was blowing it off, she let her pack slip back to the floor. “Look what we just made happen back there. As a team. Why is it being more somehow _bad_ or _dangerous_ or some kind of Biblical temptation?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just...can’t...give you that, Skye.”

“Wow,” she said, “I wasn’t asking you for anything. I wasn’t asking for you to _give_ me something, Coulson. I am just saying to let it be exactly what it is.”

“And what's that?” he asked hurriedly, turning towards her, a deep frown on his face.

“When you’re not doing this,” she said, motioning towards him. “Putting up a front, hiding in the hopes that you won’t slip up or make a mistake or, God forbid...”

"Is that what you want, Skye?"

"I don't know!" she yelled. "But whatever this is, it's not working. Just stop trying to control every little thought, every little thing you're thinking and feeling."

"Trust me, you don't want me to stop."

"I was enjoying making a difference, thank you very much. You're killing it. If this is what it means to rebuild SHIELD, then..."

"You want to back out, yes, I'm sure you do some days. Some days, I wish we were still on the Bus and you were sitting across from my desk and we were just talking out the op but really learning each other."

She stared back at him.

Yes, that was exactly what she wanted.

This made it worse, he completely understood. She thought maybe he was confused or stressed out, but no, he was choosing this other thing.

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"I didn't know you before you died. Is this what you were like?" she asked carefully, calmly.

Several expressions crossed his face before he answered.

"Yes."

"Are you going to retreat back into that SHIELD? After everything you've sacrificed to stand apart from it?"

He walked towards her, put his arms around her, cautious of his hands. She could've gone another way with this, she chose to go here instead. It was why he knew he couldn't do this without her.

Or wouldn't want to.

"You were the one thing. The one decision that wasn't a manipulation, that wasn't made for me."

She knew he was talking about the team. A team which he had come to love and respect, which felt as close as family. But assembled to watchdog him, to fix him if the side effects of Project: TAHITI ever made him come apart at the seams.

"I'll never regret that," he said.

But, he was still holding back.

"That was almost six months ago, Coulson. That's not _right now_."

" _Skye..._ "

"Stop. Retreating."

"I don't want to hurt you, Skye, but, I know my own limitations."

He made it sound so professional.

"You're in denial, Phil," she said, pushing away from his embrace.

"It's safer this way," he answered matter-of-fact. He looked around the barn and found a kerosene lantern hanging nearby. He turned on the flashlight and checked the fuel then lit it.

"That's a lie, and you know it," she said, as he hung the lantern. "You're just scared and you are drawing lines to maintain some pretend protocol and I can see the cracks."

"You might be able to, but not everyone can."

"They will be able to, eventually," she said, nodding her head for emphasis. "You are not Fury."

She watched the wounded expression on his face as he turned away from her, wincing because his fingers were trying to curl but it hurt too much.

"Oh, and your pride? Worrying about what everyone else thinks? What happened to ' _to hell with protocols_ '?"

"That was before I had to _WRITE the damn protocols_!" he yelled.

"I am _glad_ you're not Fury. I wake up every day glad that you're not. I hope you know that. I hope you know that's why I joined SHIELD."

"Do you think I like doing this? Do you think I was ready for this? No, I wasn't."

"Don't you want to do it together? When you told me that _WE_ were what was standing between HYDRA and the people _WE_ swore to protect, I wasn't thinking about SHIELD."

"Neither was I," he said, remembering that day.  "It was so organized before, so tidy."

"Yes, I know," she said. "It wasn't so messy. And we _are_ messy," she said.

"My feelings for you, are messy," he admitted.

"I certainly hope so," she said, stepping up to him. "I hope that when you think of me, you _feel something_ , and that it's _messy_ and _real_ and you can't hide it or shove it beneath some damn protocol!"

He watched her walk past and yank the lantern off its hook, head for the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked, a little shocked.

"Outside. I'm sick of being in this barn and _no one's out there, Coulson_!"

She walked out of the barn and into the night, letting the door slam behind her.

When the light got further out, he went to follow her, looked up at the stars shouting above him.

Skye walked on with a purpose.

He kept pace, reaching for her when she went ahead, still cautious with his hands.

"That's far enough," he said, glancing back at the barn.

"This is good," she stopped, catching her breath, turning and looking at him after feeling the ground change to grass beneath her feet.

Then, she set the lantern down, laid down on her back and stared up at the stars.

"You're blocking my view," she said, annoyed, when he appeared over her.

Sitting down beside her, he groaned and laid out on the grass.

"You can see them all out here," he said softly, after a moment.

"Yes. I was hoping also, for silence, and aloneness, but I can see I'm not getting that."

"You have every right to be angry," he started.

"Coulson, I'm not looking for validation. We both know I'm right."

She sighed and turned on her side towards him.

"What I want to know is what you're feeling."

"Scared," he said.

"SHIELD started with a handful of people, just like us."

"It was a different world," he said. "They weren't dealing with alien invasions."

"You so sure about that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Guess not," he said. She could hear his smile.

"Look, Coulson, you're a smart guy," she said, "You've studied history."

"Doomed to repeat it?" 

"No, _no_ ," she said, emphatically, frowning at him. "We are going to do our best, and it _will_ be enough."

"How so?"

"Because of _this_ ," she said, sliding her hand underneath his shirt, letting it rest over his heart. She could feel the raised scar there.

He let his fingers rest on top of hers.

"Shooting star," he said, looking up.

Her eyes left him for a moment hoping to catch it.

She waited for another.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
